


What I miss

by well_i_tried



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: A little, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Diego Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Good Brother Diego Hargreeves, Hurt Klaus Hargreeves, Hurt/Comfort, I’m so tired why am I doing this, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, No Incest, No Slash, No Smut, Protective Diego Hargreeves, Suiciadal Thoughs, Suicidal actions, The Umbrella Academy - Freeform, They’re brothers, i would die for them, it gets kinda dark, ya nasties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-17 19:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18105236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/well_i_tried/pseuds/well_i_tried
Summary: “His eyes trail along the bridge, eventually landing on a lone figure. There, in the police spotlight. He’s standing there in those ridiculous leather pants and that stupid black coat with the fur.It’s him. It’s his brother. It’s Klaus.”ORDiego wants to be a good brother and Klaus is having a rough time.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kaya_mckay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaya_mckay/gifts).



> Taken from Kaya_mckay’s lovely prompt. Decided it was my turn to try!

Diego smiles as the door to Vanya’s apartment opens. After not seeing each other for the better part of five years, they had decided that it would be a good time to catch up.

Vanya smiles him, then sees the bag of Chinese food in his hand and widens her smile.

“Hey, Vanya.” There’s a warmth in his voice that is usually only there when talking to Eudora.

“Hey, Diego,” she mimics.

He chuckles and steps into her apartment as the door opens wider, letting him get a full view of where his sister has been living.

“You can put the food over there.” He follows her finger to the small table in front of the T.V. “I’m going to go change into some comfier clothes.”

Diego nods, stepping around the couch and places the food down on the short table. His eyes drift around the small apartment. _It’s nice,_ he thinks. _Much brighter than my place._

When Vanya walks back into the room, now clad in baggy sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt, he voices his thoughts.

“Oh, thanks.” She glances down in embarrassment but Diego can tell she’s happy that he thinks her apartment is nice. She’s proud of herself.

They sit down on the couch and Vanya puts on a show neither of them pay attention to. They talk over good food, about memories. Some good, some not so good.

Diego’s taking a sip of his water— his body’s a temple and he plans to keep it that way— when his police scanner goes off.

Both he and Vanya jump at the loud crackle that comes through, and Diego scrambles to get it off his belt.

“ _Shit_ , forgot I had it on me,” Diego apologizes. Planning to turn it off.

” _We’ve got a possible jumper at the Brooklyn Bridge. Looks like he might be a junkie.”_

Diego’s hand freezes, similar to the fork that paused halfway between Vanya and her plate. They send a look to each other, the same thought in both their minds.

“It’s not. It’s can’t be.” Vanya insists. “There are hundreds of junkies in the city.” Her voice is wavering and Diego’s sure that if he spoke it would come out in a stutter.

“I-I don’t kn-know.” Damn, he hates that he’s right. 

He looks desperately between his sister and the scanner, wondering if he should cut their meet up shortfor something that might not even involve their brother.

Vanya decides for him.

“Go,” she insists. “Make sure it’s not him.”

Diego jumps to his feet and nods at her once before sprinting out the door. God, he wishes he had Five’s powers.

 

* * *

 

 

The drive through the city fills him with tense energy and Diego is sure he’s going to burst before he gets there.

He sees the lights before he even sees the bridge. They’re flashing bright, so bright.  _Red, blue, red, blue, redblueredblueredblue._

Diego’s temped to cover his eyes, but he knows he can’t. He has to make sure it’s not him. It can’t be him.

Eudora sees him before he even makes it halfway to the yellow tapes. She meets him there, and there’s a look in her eyes. He can’t tell what it is.

“Diego, you know you can’t be here.” Her voice his firm.

“I-I know, I j-just...” his eyes trail along the bridge, eventually landing on a lone figure. There, in the police spotlight. He’s standing there in those _ridiculous_ leather pants and that _stupid_ black coat with the fur.

It’s him. It’s his brother. It’s Klaus.

Diego makes a strangled noise. “No. No, no, no.” 

Eudora follows his gaze. “Do you know him?”

“Y-y-yes. He’s m-m-m-“ Diego cuts himself off, the voice of his father sharp in his head.

” _Get yourself together, Number Two. I can’t understand what you’re saying.”_

“ _Brother_ ,” He gasps out.

Emotions cross Eudora’s face before she quickly lifts the tape and ushers him through. 

He follows behind her, hyperaware of the way Klaus’ hands are clamped over his ears, the way his shoulders are hunched, the constant flinch as if something is touching him.

He knows that he should be yelling at Klaus to _get his ass away from the edge_ , but the words can’t seem to form in his mind.

“ _Number Two, if you cannot get ahold of yourself I will be forced to take you off the mission.”_

_”Don’t stress, darling  Just imagine the word in your mind.”_

He takes a deep breath. “Klaus!” His voice cuts through the air much like his knives; sharp and fast.

Klaus doesn’t turn around. Doesn’t even seem to have heard him.

“Klaus! Klaus, g-get away from th-the edge!”

Mom’s voice is in the back of his head, reminding him to calm down and think about what he wants to say. To picture it.

Klaus still hasn’t turned. “For _fuck’s sake!_  NUMBER FOUR!” Diego screams, hoping to God that that will get his brother’s attention.

All the commotion around him stops. It’s so, so quiet and Klaus is finally turning around, pain etched into the thin features of his face.

“Come on, Four! You know you don’t have to do this!”

Klaus opens his mouth as if he was going to say something, but then he flinches, pressing against his ears even harder. His weight is teetering towards the edge of the bridge and Diego can feel is heart constrict.

“What am I going to tell Number Seven, _huh_? What am I going to say to Vanya? Am I going to have to tell our little sister that all three of her favorite brothers are dead?” Diego knows that he’s going to have a _hell_ of a time explaining this clusterfuck. “Five and Six are gone! Am I going to have to tell her that you are too? Who’s going to be next, then? Three?”

Klaus jerks and Diego can’t tell if he’s crying or laughing or about to throw up.

“You’re Séance!” He screams. “You talk with the dead you don’t become the dead!”

Now the entire police force is confused and Klaus is starting to take his hands off his ears.

“ _Two_?” Klaus’ voice breaks viciously and both him and Diego flinch, but Diego nods regardless. “They’re _so loud_ , Two! They won’t stop screaming!”

“Come h-here, I’ll t-t-talk with you! I promise!”

“Promise?”

“I p-promise!”

Klaus steps away from the edge, latching onto the railing and Diego’s entire body sags, relief flooding through him.

His brother’s hands are shaking so bad that Diego has to pull him over the railing, which leads Klaus straight into his arms and to the ground but Diego can’t find it in himself to care.

“They were all screaming and— and I couldn’t see Ben.” Klaus is trembling and Diego might be too.

Diego wraps his arms around his little brother—if not in age, then by number— and holds him close.

“Don’t you _ever_ do that again. You hear me?” He takes Klaus’ face in his hands. “God, I don’t think I could handle losing another brother.”

Klaus chuckles bitterly and wipes his ‘Hello’ hand across his face, smearing the makeup even more.

“What’s there to miss?”

The question takes Diego by surprise. He sits up and holds Klaus at arm’s length, looking him over.

“What do you mean, ‘ _what’s there to miss?_ ’” He asks incredulously. 

Klaus scoffs. “I mean exactly what I said, man.” His eyes dart to the side as if he’s seen something, then they narrow. Diego looks but doesn’t see anything.

“Klaus, look at me.” Klaus’ eyes don’t move from the spot. “ _Number Four!_ ”

“Oh _fuck_ _off_ , Number Two!” Klaus practically snarls. “You haven’t talked to me in over a year and you never cared when we were kids! So, let me ask again! What’s there to miss, huh? Why shouldn’t I go launch myself off the next _fucking_ bridge I see?” 

Klaus is almost screaming at this point and Diego wants to shy away from the stares of the other police men and women. God, this situation went from bad to better to worse.

So Diego takes a breath.

“What’s there to miss, Klaus? God, I miss so many things already! When we were kids and we’d steal Five’s marshmallows for his sandwiches and chuck them at each other. When you’d sit with me and listen to Vanya play her violin. When I’d come back with dad and there’d be bloody blisters on my hands and you’d follow me into the infirmary and crack jokes while mom fixed me up!” Diego can feel the tears building up in the corners of his eyes l, but he _doesn’t_ _care_ about that. What’s he cares about is Klaus.

Said brother opens his mouth to speak, but Diego cuts him off quickly.

“No, Klaus. You need to know I care.” Diego squeezes Klaus’ too-thin arm. “I miss when you, me, and Ben started the “Even Numbers Club” and it pissed Five off so much when we let Vanya in and not him. I miss sneaking out to eat donuts ‘til we puked and then sneaking back into the house so we wouldn’t wake dad.”

Klaus’ shoulders lurch and a wet laugh escapes him. He looks Diego in the eye and continues quietly.

“When we’d play pranks on Allison and Luther when they were hiding out in her room.”

“Yes!” Diego cheers, happy to see that his brother is coming around. He taps Klaus’ arm to get his attention to say one last thing. “What I miss most, though, is seeing you. I’ve missed you. Yeah, you might be a pain in the ass, but you’re my little brother. I love you.”

Klaus snickers and hits Diego on the arm. “We’re the same age, dumbass.”

Diego shakes his head, laughing with him. “According to the our numbers, you’re my little brother, and it’s my job to protect you. Which I haven’t been very good at.” He says that last part solemnly.

“It’s okay, bro. I haven’t been around much for you to do your “protecting.”” Klaus laughs lightly. 

The “elder” of the two hums in agreement, before hauling his brother up, deciding that they both needed sleep. Diego also needed to let Vanya know that Klaus was fine.

He was met they eyes of many other officers staring down him and his brother.

Diego steps in front of Klaus as much as possible, although it’s hard to do while supporting him too. Klaus curves into Diego’s hold, the eyes boring into him reminding him too much of the spirits and spectersthat haunt his daily life.

The officers part, letting them through, but from the looks on their faces, Diego knew he was going to have a lot of explaining to do.

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diego has a lot of explaining to do

Diego’s back at the door of Vanya’s apartment, but he’s not smiling this time. No, he wants to cry and throw his knives but he can’t. He has to make sure Klaus will be okay and that he won’t launch himself off the next fucking bridge he sees.

He raps against the door and it opens before he even finishes his third knock.

Diego holds his breath as Vanya looks them up and down. He can see the emotions brewing beneath the surface.

Klaus offers a weak smile and waves to his sister with his ‘ _Hello_ ’ hand, which is covered in smudged makeup.

A broken laugh escapes Vanya’s lips and she leaps forwards to latch onto her two brothers. He arms barely get around them but the idea and affection are still there.

Klaus laughs again, but it ends in a sob. He fists his hands into her shirt and plants his face on her shoulder. He looks ridiculous, Diego thinks, bent almost in half to hug their sister. He doesn’t care at all, though.

A smile ghosts across Diego’s lips before he ushers the pair inside, deciding this matter was better dealt with privately.

Once he’s inside and the door is safely closed behind him, Diego looks for his siblings.

Klaus is already laying on the couch, one arm thrown over his eyes and one resting on his stomach. He’s sleeping. Just sleeping.

Diego stops and watches the hand on his brother’s stomach rise up and down steadily. If he couldn’t see Klaus breathing, Diego would think he was dead.

 _Dead_ , _dead_ , _dead_.

_“Why shouldn’t I launch myself off the next fucking bridge I see?”_

Diego shudders and releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His hands twitch for his knives, but there’s nothing to throw them at. This problem won’t be solved by throwing knives. 

A presence comes up next to him and Diego turns to look even though he already knows it’s Vanya. He looks down at her and she looks back up. 

Vanya opens her mouth and Diego thinks she’s going to say something, but instead a quiet sob bursts from her mouth. Her shoulders shake and one hand is put over her mouth in an attempt to not wake Klaus. 

Blinking the burning tears out of his eyes, Diego wraps arms around Vanya’s small frame. She slumps against his chest and turns her face into him, effectively muffling her cries even more.

“It’s okay,” Diego whispers. “It’s okay.”

He’s not sure if it’s more for himself or Vanya.

 

* * *

 

Diego’s stomach is rolling as he looks at the police station. According to the 27 missed calls from Eudora and the vaguely threatening voicemails she left, last night was something they  _“seriously need to talk about.”_

Taking a deep breath, he starts his walk up the steps. His finger anxiously runs over one of the knives he has stashed in his pocket, which he _knows_ he doesn’t need and most definitely _should_ _not_ be bringing into a police station, but it helps his nerves by an infinitesimal amount and that’s better than nothing. 

As Diego pushes the door open, he can hear his heartbeat thundering in his ears, which mutes the sound of his heavy boots against the cold cement floor of the precinct.

The moment he steps into the bullpen, everything _stops_ —officers stop talking, pens stop moving, keyboards stop clicking. The only sound left is the printer in the back room, choking out papers.

Diego tenses on instinct, feet shifting into fighting stance. If there’s anything that Reginald and days of vigilantism ingrained into his body, it’s that if you become the center of attention, you become the target.

Diego does not want to be the target.

The _click_ - _clack_ , _click_ - _clack_ of heels resonates around the quiet room and Diego’s eyes dart over to the doors from one of the branching hallways.

As Eudora enters the room, she slows upon realizing that the normal hustle and bustle of the bullpen is not there.

“What’s going on?” Her voice makes Diego jump, just proving his nerves. He saw her walk into the room for fuck’s sake.

Her eyes scan the room, roaming over every officer until they end up on Diego, which then causes her to freeze too.

Diego’s eyes flick around the room in slight panic, deciding that if this goes downhill, knowing escape routes would be a good idea.

Eudora asks, “Diego, what the hell was that last night?” As Diego’s eyes land on the big map of the United Stages in the corner to his left.

In a panic, he blurts, “Choose a state.”

Eudora blinks once. Twice. Then: “Choose a state?”

“I promise this will make explaining things easier.” Diego explains, and he’s pretty proud of himself for not stuttering this far.

“Alright...” She’s confused, but at least she’s going along with it. “Minnesota.”

Diego—while maintaining eye contact with Eudora— whips a knife out of his pocket and chucks it to the right before anyone can even draw their guns. It flies straight and true before abruptly curving and zipping back across the room, embedding itself in the map with a powerful _thunk_. It’s in the dead center of Minnesota.

It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Internally, Diego is _freaking the fuck out._  Externally, though, he looks as calm as one can be after giving a show and tell—minus the tell— of their deepest hid secret.

All at once, the station erupts into a cacophony of voices. People are going _nuts_. Some are yelling (whether it be to others or themselves), some are running around, and some are sitting there, dumbfounded.

“EVERYONE _STOP_!” Eudora shouts, effectively rendering everyone silent. She takes a deep breath. “Diego.” 

“...Yes?” His voice is _at_ _least_ an octave higher than normal.

“What the fuck?”

Diego rocks back and forth on his feet. Is he really about to go tell a shortened version of his life story to a room full of people he wouldn’t trust with one of his knives?

The answer is yes, because he didn’t think this through.

“Okay, s-so. You r-remember those Umbrella Academy k-kids?” His stutter is starting to bleed into his words and he takes a deep breath.

Heads around the room nod, a look of realization coming to many of their faces. There are a few gasps of surprise, which is a surprise in itself, because once you watch someone throw a knife and make it defy the laws of physics you’d think you’ve seen everything. Diego thinks they should meet his siblings.

Well, maybe not. His family’s a mess.

“The K-Kraken at your service.” Diego gives them a muted version of jazz hands. “Or, N-Number Two if we want to go by legal n-names.”

A young rookie from across the room pipes up. “Number Two is your legal name? Who names their kid Number Two?”

Diego bitterly snorts. “My “dad” apparently. I’m not even sure if he legally adopted me or my siblings. I’m not even sure if I have a birth certificate.” 

“Siblings?”

“Oh yeah,” Diego begins. “Got six of them. Number One, Number Three, Number Four, Number Five, Number Six, and Number Seven. Or: Luther, Allison, Klaus, Five, Ben,”—Diego’s voice did _not_ break—“and Vanya. Our mom gave us real names when we were ten.” He can see the disturbance on many of the officers faces— he doesn’t blame them; he would be disturbed, too, if it wasn’t his life. Hell, it is his life and he’s a little disturbed.

Diego can remember how hard it was for him to start answering to ‘Diego’ as well as ‘Number Two.’ He’s been bitter about it his entire life, always feeling like his name wasn’t _his_. Sure, he liked ‘Diego’ a helluva lot more than ‘Number Two’, but sometimes it just felt wrong.

“Why didn’t Number Five get a real name?” A young officer to his left asks.

At the same time, Eudora says: “Klaus was the brother on the bridge last night.”

Diego coughs awkwardly. “I’m not actually sure why Five didn’t get a real name. We all just got used to calling him Five.” Then he turns to Eudora. “Y-yeah. Klaus was on the b-bridge.”

Her eyes soften. “Is he okay?”

“He’s getting there,” Diego says roughly.

The police station is quiet again. They’re still staring at Diego and he’s still so, _so_ uncomfortable. His hand distractedly reaches for his left sleeve, pulling it up and freeing a knife. He begins twirling it around, weaving it in between his fingers and flipping it from hand to hand as if it was a pen and not an extremely sharp (not to mention deadly) weapon.

“What happened to them?” At Diego’s confused look, the officer elaborates. “Number Five and Number Six. Last night you told Number Four something about them being gone.”

Something akin to disgust coils in Diego’s gut at the use of the numbers.

“Klaus,” Diego says sharply. “His name is Klaus. And Number Six’s name was Ben.” His voice is soft now, sad.

“Sorry,” the office mumbles. “But,” She continues cautiously, “what happened to... Ben?”

There’s a faraway look that settles in Diego’s eyes before he answers.

“He died. Was killed, really.” Diego blinks away the moisture in his eyes and everyone pretends they didn’t notice. “He was on a mission w-with Luther. And he, um... he lost control of his powers, I guess. We were never really t-told for sure. Five was gone at this point so I’m not sure if he k-k-knows that B-Ben is dead. If he’s even alive.”

“Where’d Five go?”

“Hell if I know.” Diego rubs at his arm. “He got into a fight with dad one morning and ran out the door. We were thirteen. Haven’t see him since.”

There’s a noise that comes from the officer and it sounds a little bit like an “Oh, okay” but Diego’s not sure.

Diego thinks the room is going to lapse into silence again when Eudora speaks up.

“What’s that tattoo on your arm? I’ve never noticed it.”

Even though the tattoo is muted in color and doesn’t stand out against his tanned skin, it glares at Diego like a neon sign. He laughs bitterly.

“Just a gift from Dear Old Dad, as Klaus would say.” Diego may be smiling but he sure isn’t happy. It’s remorseful. It’s full of sympathy for him and his siblings and the childhood they never hand. “For our thirteenth birthday, our dad decided that it would be a good idea to give us all a tattoo of our insignia. He wanted it to be a part of us forever so we could never forget who we belonged to.”

Somehow, Eudora was next to him and her hand is on his arm. “Oh, Diego.” Her voice is soft, concerned.

Diego shudders. These people are showing more care and worry for him and his siblings than their father ever had.

Something bubbles in Diegos chest and he’s not sure what it is, but now he wants to cry. But he can’t because that damned father of his ingrained into his mind that he’s not allowed to cry. He’s not allowed to be weak.

“He still c-called me N-Number Two even a-after our mom named u-us. It was hard l-learning to re-respond to both n-n-names.”

Eudora’s hand leads him to the ground, something he was grateful for once he was finally sitting.

“I th-think Klaus hated it the m-most, though. He was never really into the whole “superhero” thing. Klaus likes to be n-noticed; to stand out. It’s hard to do when y-you share half your name and b-birthday with six other people.” Diego laughs wetly and runs a hand over his face. “Klaus c-can see the dead. Talk to them, t-too. He’s scared of them, though. Dad always tried to f-force improvement on him, claiming that Klaus had only scratched th-the s-surface of his powers. I think that’s one of the reasons he ended up so fucked.”

It’s quiet again and Diego feels like he can breathe again. Everything if off his chest. Eudora’s hand is still resting against his arm and he’s thankful for that. It’s acting as something to keep him grounded. 

His phone dings, making some people in the room jump. He fishes into his pocket and pulls it out, screen softly lightly up his face. Diego grins a little. 

_“Hey, Klaus is awake and doing fine. He says thanks. Also just making sure you’re okay.”_

“Who is it?” Eudora asks.

“It’s Vanya. She told me Klaus is awake and that he’s okay. She’s also making sure I’m fine.” Diego’s voice is soft and full of warmth.

Eudora pats his arm. “Why don’t you head home? I’m sure your siblings will be happy to see you.”

“Y-Yeah,” Diego agrees. “I think I’ll head home. I’d say thanks for the talk but that was really stressful.”

“Bye, Diego.” Eudora pulls him up, laughing lightly. “I’ll see you around.”

Diego offers her a small grin as he turns to walk out the door, awkwardly waving at the other occupants of the building. Somehow, that went better than expected. Although, Diego wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting.

_“That’s good. And thanks for checking in, I’m fine. I’ll be back in a few. :)”_

He adds the smiley face because, hey, why not? He’s feeling pretty okay right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sure some of the ages at which things happened are incorrect. Oops. But other than that I hope you enjoyed. 
> 
> Leave kudos and comments :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [You'd Better Learn to Fly](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18113474) by [Huntress8611](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress8611/pseuds/Huntress8611)




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